


Boarded Up

by phdfan



Series: A Moth-Eaten Scarf [38]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, POV Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdfan/pseuds/phdfan
Summary: Fenris makes an unwelcome discovery, and Sara jumps to an anxious conclusion.





	Boarded Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarasa_cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarasa_cat/gifts).



> Written in response to the prompt: When they are having a fight, what is it about and how do they deal with it?

Sara was writing to Bethany when Fenris stalked in. Throwing one of his gauntlets onto the bed, he worked on releasing the other. His movements were jerky as he pulled at the straps, his shoulders tense. Sara turned on her chair, and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bad day?” she asked.

“They’ve boarded it up,” he said. He pulled at the strap harder, but the buckle wasn’t giving.

“Boarded what up?” Sara asked. She stood and walked over to him. He offered his hand, palm up, and she slid the tongue of the first strap free before starting work on the second.

“Danarius’s mansion,” Fenris said.

“Well, that would spoil the view,” Sara said. “But why do you care?” She pulled the second strap free, and the gauntlet came off in her hands. Fenris flexed his fingers, his palm curving in.

“It was mine,” he said. Sara inclined her head to the side in puzzlement.

“Your ex-master’s,” she corrected. “And you haven’t been there in months. Not since Danarius died.”

“Not since I killed him, you mean,” Fenris said, and walked away from her. He stepped closer to the bed, and looked at the gauntlet lying on the red damask coverlet.

“Well, yes,” Sara said. “But I’m still not sure why you care.”

“It was mine,” he repeated. Sara frowned. He picked up the gauntlet and placed it, with almost excruciating delicacy, on the side table. He was breathing fast, his shoulders raised, and he clenched his hand. There was something she was just not understanding.

“You’re upset,” she said. She walked over to place the gauntlet she held beside the first one, but he turned and walked away from her again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to say,” Fenris said. He walked over to the fireplace and stared into it, like he had on that night long ago. A chill touched Sara’s heart. Surely this wasn’t a prelude to him leaving, again?

Sara sat on the bed and watched him. “I suppose the Seneschal wanted to sell the property,” she said. “It’s been unoccupied for years.”

“It was not _unoccupied_ ,” Fenris said, labouring the last word.

“An elven squatter doesn’t count,” Sara said, and regretted it as soon as she saw Fenris flinch. She hastened to fix it. “I mean, you haven’t even been staying there lately.”

“But I could have,” Fenris said. “I always had it… as an option.”

“Somewhere to escape, you mean?” Sara said softly, beginning to understand. “From Anders? From… me?”

Fenris flinched again, and said nothing.

Sara stood up from the bed and walked over to him. She hovered her hand above his shoulder, but their set did not invite her touch. She let her hand drop, and moved away to the relative safety of her desk.

She sat down, and picked up the quill again. “You could always go and stay with Isabela,” Sara said, trying to make herself sound casual.

She heard Fenris turn at that, and was sure she could feel his eyes burning into her back. “Why would you bring Isabela into this?” he asked.

“Aren’t you leaving?” Sara asked, keeping her voice light. “Isn’t that what this is all about? I’m sure she’d be willing to have you.”

“I’m not leaving,” Fenris said, and he stalked over, his hand coming down on the letter Sara had been writing. The ink was still wet, and smudged across the page. “Why are you making this about you?”

“Isn’t it about me? It’s me you need to escape from, isn’t it?”

Fenris turned, the weight of his hand dragging Sara’s letter and blotter onto the floor. The ink bottle tipped over, and a black pool began to spread across her desk. Sara stared at it.

“Maybe I should go,” Fenris said, and it sounded more like he was talking to himself than Sara.

“Why not,” Sara said sarcastically. “You’ve already done it once.”

“And apparently you have never forgiven me for it,” Fenris said. He brushed aside some of his hair with one hand, leaving a smudge of ink across his forehead. He sat down heavily on the bed, and leaned his face into his hands.

Sara stayed perched on her chair, watching him, unsure whether to intervene. After a moment, Fenris stood.

“I’m going to see Varric,” he said, and walked out. A minute later, Sara heard the front door slam.

“Please come back,” Sara said to the empty room.


End file.
